


The Frozen Prince

by boazpriestly



Series: No Matter What Universe We're In, I Will Always Find You [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2018-03-08 07:14:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3200273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boazpriestly/pseuds/boazpriestly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is a Frozen Prince who’s awoken from his slumber when his soulmate, Castiel, wanders into his cave in search of buried treasure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Frozen Prince

Castiel’s skin feels as if he’s been zapped by a taser and he knows immediately that he’s interacted with a curse. The tiny pin pricks throbbing in his muscles lets him know the magic is ancient, put in place long before his father was born. Castiel looks around the cave he’s stepped inside of and blinks hard to force his eyes to adjust to the sudden blue hue of light coming from the back. He positions his spear in front of himself and widens his stance, ready to fight whatever’s coming for him.

"Ugh," groans a voice that sounds like it hasn’t been used in years. The light gets brighter and Castiel’s eyes widen as a boy walks around a corner and heads straight for him. "Next time give a guy some warning before you —" The boy stops walking as stares right at Castiel; he runs a hand through his hair. "You’re not my brother," he says. 

Castiel shakes his head. 

The boy walks forward again, stepping around Castiel and to the broken curse. His fingers touch the blackened marks on the cave walls that signal the end of his imprisonment and then he turns to Castiel and smiles. “You don’t even know how long I’ve been waiting for you, man.” 

His arms wrap around Castiel’s shoulders before Cas can think to move away. 

***

The fire Castiel builds does nothing to diminish the blue tint to the boy’s — Dean’s, as Castiel eventually learns — skin. Castiel forces him to sit right next to the blaze, as close as he can get without the flames licking his skin, but he never regains a flesh color. 

"Perks of being frozen for three hundred years, I guess," Dean says with a shrug after the fifth time Castiel fusses over him. Castiel passes him a dried strip of venison and grunts at him to eat. "You don’t talk much, do you?" Dean asks. 

Castiel stares at the fire. He lifts his hands to sign a response but thinks better of it and just shakes his head instead. 

"It’s cool," Dean says. "I’ll talk enough for the both of us. You gonna eat that?" 

Castiel looks to where Dean’s pointing and smirks. Of course, he thinks. Even centuries old frozen boys would want desserts over dried out meat. Castiel hands over half of the pastry his brother insisted he bring with him; his fingers graze Dean’s palm and he shivers. How can Dean still be so cold? 

"Thanks man," Dean says quietly, hanging his head a bit. He tears tiny pieces off with his fingers and eats in a way that reminds Castiel of the birds that cover the streets in the city; the movement seems practiced. 

He watches Dean eat for a moment longer before he grunts loudly to get the boy’s attention. Dean looks up at him and smiles. “We’re gonna have to work on a different signal. It sounds like that kind of hurts.” 

It doesn’t, but Cas appreciates the concern. 

"Do you know anything about the treasure buried here?" Castiel signs slowly. 

Dean raises an eyebrow and cocks his head. Castiel could kick himself for thinking Dean would be able to understand sign language. He scratches his head and tries to think of another way to communicate. His tongue is useless and his letters are even worse. He thinks of his sister Anna and grabs his spear. Castiel uses the tip to draw in the snow in front of Dean, the way Anna taught him how to during their late night art lessons. 

"You’re looking for the chest?" Dean says, clearly understanding Castiel’s drawing. 

Castiel nods. 

"Is that what you came for? My father’s treasure?"

Another nod. 

Dean frowns and looks to the floor. Castiel’s chest hurts suddenly. “There’s nothing in it,” Dean says. “Just a bunch of old deeds and clothing. Everyone thought we were rich because my father was a king, but the wealth dried up when my mother died and my father went mad. He spent everything we ever had, leaving me and my brother to fend for ourselves.” Dean huffs a sad laugh and looks up at Castiel, “Can you imagine a couple of princes having to beg on the streets for scraps to eat? It was embarassing, but it wasn’t the worst thing that happened. No, the worst was the sorcerer who declared my father’s kingdom as his own and banished us from our home — but not before he stole my brother to keep as his own son.” Dean laughed hard, anger eroding the edges like venom from a snake, “I made the chest you’re looking for because my brother and I made a promise to meet here — the place we used to play in when we were children — and run away to an ally kingdom. But the sorcerer must’ve been listening to us because he took my brother’s place and locked me in here with the curse you broke. And you don’t even realize how you were able to walk through it.” 

Castiel doesn’t know what to do with anything Dean’s told him so he just sinks to his knees and pulls Dean into a hug, ignoring the way Dean’s skin was still ice cold. They stay that way for a few minutes and then Dean pulls back and tilts his chin up to the ceiling, revealing the length of his throat. 

"The chest has nothing important in it. It won’t make you rich, and it won’t make you a king. The deed is to a castle that’s probably long gone and the clothes would probably only fit me. If you want to take it, I won’t stop you, but I only ask that you do one thing first: kill me." 

Castiel’s eyes go wide, He grunts in protest, shaking his head and reaching for Dean’s shoulders. He won’t do that. He can’t do that. 

"I knew it," Dean says, a smirk playing at his lips. 

Castiel’s heart races and he shakes Dean, silently asking him what he knew. 

Dean must understand because he says, “I knew the curse was legit. Only person who can break it is the one who could kill me with one blow but refuses. You’re not some delicate little flower, I saw the way you were about to tear me apart when I first woke up. You’ve got skills and you could hurt someone like me. Except you didn’t and you won’t, and now I know why.” Dean raises his hand and places it on Castiel’s coat over his heart. Castiel is surprised by the warmth he suddenly feels. “You’re my soulmate, Castiel.” 

His whole body warms up and Castiel realizes, just as Dean’s skin starts to lose its blue coloring, that he never told Dean his name.


End file.
